


The Longest Rain

by The_Bentley



Series: Kisses Bingo Fics [6]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Depressed Crowley (Good Omens), Depression, Developing Relationship, Discorporation (Good Omens), Kissing in the Rain, Literal Sleeping Together, Lullabies, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Scene: Flood in Mesopotamia 3004 BC (Good Omens), Singing, Sleep, Undressing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26044171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley
Summary: “Come along, Crawly.  We can’t stay here any longer.  The water’s rising.”“What’s the point, angel?  If She’s just going to wipe out life whenever it displeases Her . . .” he didn’t quite know what to say, it seemed.  “Go wherever you wish, I’m not following.  I’m just going to stay here and drown.”The rain has started and Aziraphale seeks out Crawly after he walks off in anger following the conversation by the ark.  When Aziraphale finds him, he must convince Crawly not to let the rising waters discorporate him and take him bodiless back to Hell.Mature rating is for discussion of discorporation and some vague naked Crawly. Your mileage may vary on whether you consider it NSFW.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Kisses Bingo Fics [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861126
Comments: 20
Kudos: 86
Collections: Kisses Bingo





	The Longest Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Kisses Bingo call: Kissing in the rain
> 
> There is a non-graphic brief description of a previous discorporation and discussion of intentionally discorporating. There is also a little talk about drowning not being a great way to die. Nobody actually discorporates or drowns in this fic.
> 
> And yes, this one is long and angsty. It kind of got away from me. Anyway, going on holiday, so I won't be around until Tuesday. Have a good weekend!

The pouring rain was soaking his red hair, pulling out the waves as more collected in Crawly’s tresses. Still he did nothing to move himself to drier areas, choosing instead to sit upon the rock he had planted himself on after storming off away from Aziraphale in anger. Pulling his feet up out of the water that was pooling around his ankles, he sat hunched, chin resting in knees, arms around legs, hair falling lifelessly in his face.

Aziraphale had sought him out, finally locating the ball of wet demon perched miserably on the rock. He touched Crawly’s soaked sleeve and Crawly raised his head to stare at his adversary with pained yellow eyes before quickly looking down again at the raindrops falling in front of his perch.

“Go away.”

“Come along, Crawly. We can’t stay here any longer. The water’s rising.”

“What’s the point, angel? If She’s just going to wipe out life whenever it displeases Her . . .” he didn’t quite know what to say, it seemed. “Go wherever you wish, I’m not following. I’m just going to stay here and drown.”

“You can’t drown. You don’t need to breathe.”

Crawly looked angrily up at him. “I can’t? I can breathe in the water and fill my lungs the same as any drowning human. Will that be enough to discorporate me?”

Aziraphale gazed upon him with as much compassion as he could muster for a demon. For this particular demon, who seemed to be an ill fit with Hell and confused Aziraphale to no end whenever he emoted non-demonic feelings. Staring up at the torrential downpour, then back at Crawly, he sighed.

“I don’t know. I’ve never discorporated. But I hear drowning’s painful. Do you want to go through that? Your lungs filling with water as you gasp for air and struggle to stay above water? I’ve read tablets describing it and it doesn’t sound pleasant.”

“I don’t care.”

“It’s not worth purposely discorporating over, Crawly. Now come on. There are people in other parts of the world still. We could head over to the Americas. Together. I’ll go with you if you want.” He had no idea what prompted him to say that other than it appeared that Crawly left to his own depressed devices was not the best of ideas and Aziraphale was friendly with his opposition on Earth even if he shouldn’t have been. A little kindness never hurt, he always thought. And neither side needed to know there were occasions they were more than friendly.

Reaching over he grabbed both of Crawly’s hands off his knees and pulled him to his feet. They stood together in ankle-deep water hand-in-hand as the rain poured off both of them, Aziraphale contemplating his next move as Crawly stood there surprised and frozen. That didn’t last long before he threw his arms around Aziraphale, shocking him as Crawly’s cold body added to his physical discomfort. Sucking in a breath he hugged Crawly back.

“Everything will be all right.”

“No it won’t,” came the muffled response. “She’s _drowning_ everyone, even the kids. What kind of God drowns the innocent?”

“There’s nothing you or I can do about it, Crawly. Those who deserve redemption shall receive it.”

Crawly raised his head from Aziraphale’s shoulder, the pain etched on his face enough to stir Aziraphale’s heart. Was he wrong to lump this particular demon in with the others? And if he truly did possess compassion, what was the reason She let him Fall? It confused Aziraphale as much as wiping out an entire population for the actions of a few. He wondered sometimes if these orders actually came from God or if the Metatron and the others were interpreting communications incorrectly.

Poor demon. He didn’t understand any better than Aziraphale did. Taking his head in his hands, Aziraphale touched his forehead to Crawly’s, their wet faces connecting in the storm that surrounded him. 

“I’m sorry, Crawly. I wish I understood.”

The contact was close, but didn’t feel close enough. Aziraphale tilted his head back so they separated, and put his lips close to Crawly’s without touching them. It was a question; an inquiry asking if he could come closer and he hoped Crawly knew that. Crawly blinked in surprise before closing the gap, putting his lips on Aziraphale’s. Aziraphale tasted the wetness of the rain and the salt of Crawly’s tears as they stood in the cold rain wetting their robes and hair and wicking up their hems from the puddle that enclosed their feet. Crying. Crawly was crying and he believed demons could not do that. Then how?

The thought was driven from Aziraphale’s mind as Crawly’s tongue brushed his bottom lip, but asked for no more. It was a sensuous feeling – delicate and intimate. Aziraphale pulled him closer, tangling his hands in Crawly’s wet hair, feeling that one braid plaited in it. He wound it around his finger. 

“You can’t stay here and drown. You can’t just go back to Hell. I . . . need you here . . .” stammered Aziraphale. “The other angels . . . they don’t understand it at all. You do. Don’t leave me here alone until you get a new body. It took you a century to come back last time.”

“Well . . . yeah . . . they kind of threw me a parade for the whole Garden of Eden thing since I was in town,” replied Crawly. “It was a long celebration and then they showed me the favour of constructing me a custom body instead of just giving me a random one. It was nice. I didn’t have to do any shape shifting to get it back to normal.”

Aziraphale knew Crawly favoured his red hair and lanky appearance. Other demons seemed content with whatever bodies they were handed.

It was Crawly’s one discorporation – he had been ambushed then stabbed by a group of humans afraid of his snake-like eyes. Aziraphale had witnessed it and have been unable to do a thing to stop it. The sight haunted him until Crawly returned to Earth and even then Aziraphale still had the occasional unbidden thought about it during those times he let his mind relax as he rested in a state similar to a human daydreaming. It was his version of sleep.

He finally coaxed Crawly to leave the area, the two of them unfurling giant swan-like wings to the angry sky, wings the defied the rain by not getting wet. There was a high mountain above this valley and on this mountain was a small hut used by the shepherds during the summer when the sheep were put out to pasture. It was here they lambed, far away from the predators that stalked the valley below.

The rain still fell, but it ran down the mountain to collect in the chosen area. 

In the hut there was a low table and a couple of beds. Some reed mats covered the floor and a pit existed in the middle of it all for a fire. Right now it was slightly damp from the otherworldly driven rain, despite construction to keep water out. Aziraphale sealed leaks off with a miracle after they tucked their wings away and entered the tiny dwelling. Their own desires to have a warm dwelling would keep it at a comfortable temperature, so they had no use for even the smoke hole.

Crawly stood inside the door wet and shivering which was not normal for someone with the ability to not get wet in the rain if he didn’t want that to happen. Aziraphale looked at him with concern.

“Dry yourself, Crawley. There’s no need for you to stand there all cold.”

Crawly simply collapsed to his knees in a dripping pile of wet robes and soaked hair, exhausted and sobbing. Aziraphale was quick to kneel by him, whispering encouragement, embracing him gently and trying to get him to stand up again.

“It’s all right. It’s going to be all right. Just dry yourself. I can’t risk being seen drying off another.” Aziraphale was no longer drenched solid.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

“No, I _can’t._ I’m too depressed to miracle. A demon’s ability is tied to their emotions and when I get too depressed I can’t make it work. I’m literally powerless right now, angel.”

“Umm . . . then we’re going to have to get you out of those wet things and find something to dry your hair.”

Aziraphale searched the hut, coming back with a fur meant to wrap up in on cold nights when a shepherd had to take his turn at the watch and a piece of cloth woven out of wool. He laid them on the floor in front of Crawly, who had not made any effort to rid himself of his damp items. Aziraphale got him to his feet and over in an out-of-the-way corner where he could wring out Crawly’s sopping hair on the dirt floor as he could find no bowls or other vessels to catch the water. Then he toweled it dry with the woven cloth.

“May I?” Aziraphale asked him before making any attempt to remove any of Crawly’s clothes. 

Crawly nodded dully. 

Helping him get at least his outer clothing off, Aziraphale left the loincloth to Crawly. Getting Crawly out of his clothing was strictly for necessity; this wasn't a prelude to the more intimate moments they occasionally shared. He went so far as to turn around to give Crawly as much privacy as was possible in this small space. 

“I’m done and you didn’t need to do that. Not like it’s something you haven’t gotten a good look at before.”

“I know, but this isn’t the time or place, my dear.”

Aziraphale turned to find him wrapped up in the off-white fur looking more angelic than Aziraphale had ever seen him, but more miserable as well. His copper waves were starting to come back now that they weren’t waterlogged, making Aziraphale wonder how Crawly wore his hair as an angel. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t needed information he sternly told himself. Right now he had to get Crawly warm before he came down with something since he was currently without his powers.

“In bed. Now. We need to keep you warm until you can do miracles again. You’ll catch something.”

“It’s not like I won’t be able to heal myself once this passes.” But he obeyed, climbing into one of the beds and cocooning himself in the coverings while Aziraphale knelt beside him and stroked his cheek. Crawly sighed heavily, his eyes blinking slowly as he fought to stay awake. Thinking he had fallen asleep, Aziraphale got up only to have him grab ahold of his robe.

“Stay?”

“Of course.”

“Get in here.”

“Is that appropriate right now, my dear?”

“I don’t want _that_. I want to hold you.”

Aziraphale slid in under the covers and pulled Crawly close to him. Laying his head on his companion’s chest, Crawly shed a few more tears, prompting Aziraphale to gently stroke his hair. He sang as he stroked it, a lullaby he had heard mothers hum to their babies hundreds of years ago and he had a surprisingly good voice for an angel who had no involvement in creating the music of the spheres. Crawly listened appreciatively until he fell asleep.

They stayed in bed for the entire span of the longest rain, two beings in need of comfort during one of the lowest times in human history. Lulled into a trance of sorts by Crawly’s warmth and the rhythm of his breathing, as well as the sound of rain falling around them outside, Aziraphale finally fell asleep for the first time and stayed asleep for months.

Neither Heaven nor Hell looked for them, figuring they had fled to other areas to wait this out; they were as forgotten as those who took refuge on the ark. Finally, when God remembered the refugees on the ark one hundred and fifty days later, Aziraphale awoke from his own sleep. He emerged from the hut as the covenant was made between the Almighty and Noah, and the rainbow filled the sky. It was to him a symbol of hope, but he knew Crawly would feel differently. He could hear him stirring inside, but did not call to him to come view it.

After gazing upon the rainbow until it faded, he turned to head back inside only to be surprised to see Crawly standing beside the hut stroking the white mane of a unicorn, his black robes standing out against her light coloured hide. Aziraphale watched Crawly bury his face in her silky hair, his arm slung around her withers. He appeared happy and Aziraphale hung back, not wanting to interrupt his moment of joy. 

The angel gazed upon the scene, distracted by the relaxed-looking demon until something lipped at his shoulder. Jumping in shock, he looked over his shoulder and laughed. Standing there, staring directly at him with the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen, was the other unicorn. 


End file.
